


What Remains

by Apostat3



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, F/M, Fantasy, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 20:18:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18880495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apostat3/pseuds/Apostat3
Summary: I wrote this as an opening chapter to a larger piece that I think I'm unlikely to finish. It's about two original characters who have become disconnected and about the ways in which they deal with grief and loneliness. It's not a super ambitious piece, but it's just something I enjoyed writing with character I love. Set in my friend's DnD universe.





	1. What Remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the story itself. Chapter 2 is some contextual info about the world.

“Hey there. Been a while since the last time, I know. I’m sorry, but I’ve been busy. Been here, there, just about everywhere. Never could find the time - or the heart - to stop by… Ah, I see it's been so long that someone has stolen my seat. No matter, I’m used to the grass by now. At least it hasn’t been raining, elsewise this would be quite the different experience. I see the groundskeepers Cailan paid still come here on the regular. Must do, as the garden looks beautiful. Let me just lose my glove so I can… Gods, you always laughed at how many straps and buckles… There we go. Lovely. I’d almost forgotten what it was to feel with my hands, it’s been some time since I’ve relieved myself of all this equipment and taken a little bit to myself… Yes, I’ve been constantly on the move for a while now, departing off on one adventure and returning only to set swiftly off on the next. My life is never dull, I’ll give it that. I remember the first adventure we went on together well; you took me on a trip to one of the company’s countless excavations, to see an ancient buried temple. You know, I don’t think I ever told you; your quartermaster’s inventory had been correct. I stole two rings and an amulet. Yes, I know, I’m sorry. But you’ll be pleased to learn they went back to my mother. She still wears the rings, and she gave my sister the necklace. If only you’d seen the look on her face; it must have been the brightest I’ve ever seen her. Must have been the happiest I’ve been. Nothing’s ever seemed quite so bright since…”  
Trembling fingers reach out and find cold granite.  
“How long has it been now? Years, must be… How is it we’ve come to know so much loss? No one ever told me this was how it could all end. No one ever turned around and warned me it could all fall apart… First, it was the dragon, then…”  
Tracing out the lines of gilded gold and inlaid platinum.  
“Then even after that, the crew. My family, our family. Gone. Ripped up and thrown into the wind. I’m alone now, yes, have been for years, and yet I’m still terrified. I’m glad, at least, that you’re always here. Sometimes the silence is deafening, but...”  
Tears grace a shining, pale cheek.  
“It’s like you said…”  
A choked sob. The grating sound of boots pushing gravel followed by the regular splash of footsteps in it, moving away.  
A moment’s hesitation. A forlorn glance back at a well polished gravestone at the centre of a neat garden.  
“‘Till next time.”

* * *

"Fenix!" Beau called out happily as he saw his old friend enter the door of his small enchantment shop. The place was a mess of books, blades, boxes and all thing in between. Items of all varieties were scattered upon shelves, cupboards and, occasionally, the floor. Beau’s upbeat mood quickly faded, however, as his friend tugged down his hood and Beau got a look at his face.

“My friend, come in, you look dreadful,” Beau kicked out a chair from behind the counter and gestured to it. “Come, sit, and tell me of your troubles.”  
“I’m fine, Beau,” Fenix said, his voice ragged. He concealed still-glimmering cheeks behind rugged hands as he ran them over his face. “I've just…” A pause, and his hands drop away again. “I was talking to Theirin again, and thinking about the others.” Beau’s expression was sympathetic as he watched his friend lament; for he too knew deeply of loss, and the troubles of enduring it alone.  
“I understand, dear friend. You need say no more, unless you so desire to. Just know that I am here, and I understand.” Beau reached out, setting a hand on Fenix's arm for a moment before turning away and returning to his work behind the counter. After some hesitation, he turned back and added. “I loved him, too. But he is never really gone so long as we have each other, old friend.”  
Fenix did not respond, just went on staring vacantly into space, but Beau was sure he saw something shift in the half-elf's eyes. With that hope, he went back to his books, and tried to push the memories from his mind.

* * *

Halfway across the world from his father's grave and Beau's little shop, Cailan squatted on a decrepit rooftop in a squalid city, watching the people below going about their business under the faint and pearly moonlight. Cailan twirled an arrow between his fingers, so reflexively he almost wasn't aware he was doing it at all. There he sat, in the same fashion as he did every night, clad in dark leathers and a deep hood, and wondered why. He wondered why he did what he did, felt as he felt, was who he was. He knew it would be simple to tell himself it was because of his father. Because a decent man had taught him to stand up for what was right. Maybe this was truth, but it certainly was not the whole truth. As he sat in thought, he came to the same realisation he always did; his father had taught him what was right, but his brother had shown him how to act. His brother, a simple farmer boy who had forged himself into something far more, had shown him that anyone can make a difference. Anyone can stand up and stop suffering. Pain. Loss.

“You're the one who did this,” he muttered to himself as he stood, shoving the blunted arrow back into his quiver and taking his bow to his hand. “Atone.” With that, he stepped off the roof and descended to the street below, where he had spotted a mugger who was about to be introduced to vigilante justice.  
In that moment, as his hood fluttered with the wind, his mask flattened against his face and his purpose became resolute, he wondered if the little garden around his father's grave still looked neat.

* * *

“I’m sorry, I must have misheard you,” Beau said, his face bearing an expression of shock. “They want to send you where?”

“A way inland, where their influence begins to wane,” Fenix explained, looking down at his hands for fear of looking up to see the disapproval in his friend’s face. “There’s some major project I’ve been requested to help with. Scouting and information gathering to help set them up out there, no doubt.” Fenix fidgeted idly with his finger, twisting them this way and that around one another. Beau leaned forwards intently.  
“And, what? You’re just going to say yes? Just up and leave for months on end? Have you considered that which you leave behind? Your family yet needs you, Fenix.”  
“I’m quite sure you know me well enough to know that I have considered these things,” Fenix replied icily, but his tone promptly softened. “I’m accepting because it’s where Cailan and Lanya are, Beau. I’m going to see them again. Surely you understand I can’t say no.” Beau nodded gravely in understanding, or perhaps in defeat. He let out a short hmph sound.  
“Very well. If that is what you have decided.” Without waiting for a reply, Beau turned and returned to his tasks, leaving Fenix to sit quietly, alone. Fenix didn’t mind, however. He was lost in the memories.

* * *

“I'm going to ask you but one more time,” Cailan pressed his boot a little more firmly against the criminal’s throat, and received a choked gargle from the man in return. “There's been an influx of your ilk here, sticking your filthy noses where they do not belong. Why?” After a moment, he eased the pressure again to allow him to speak, and the man panted heavily.  
“I-I told you already, ser. They tell us nothin’, nothing, I say! They just want us to look around, see the state of things an’ that. Please, I don't know-” The man was cut short by Cailan once again pressing down.  
“You continuously refer to “they” and yet you give me no indication of who “they” are. Perhaps you'd like to talk about that for a while, or is it that you seek a broken neck? I can arrange for that with ease, believe me.” Cailan’s voice came as a low growl, and the man let out a suppressed whimper.  
“The Guild, ser! The Thieves’ Guild!” This answer bought the man a swift punch in the face.  
“Don't lie to me, it's not good for your health. The Guild hardly even exist out here, you and I both know that. So let's try this once more, hmm? Who. Are. “They”?” Cailan leaned in closer, resting his weight on his knee which, in turn, went onto the man’s throat.  
“I swears it, ser! I swears it's nothin’ but the truth!” The man was clearly panicking now, and blood from his recently bloodied nose was now running down into his mouth. He looked close to tears. After a moment’s pause to consider the man’s answer, Cailan removed his boot.  
“Alright then. That's all the questions I had. We shall see in time if your answers hold up.” Following this, Cailan did not hesitate in bringing his bow snapping across the criminal’s face. The injured man could endure no more, and lost consciousness. Cailan bent, brought the man up over his shoulder, and set off for the nearest guard post, to deposit the body.  
“Suppose it's another long night for me. Grand.” He muttered, to no one in particular.

* * *

Fenix sat on the thatched roof of the farmhouse, gazing out over fields of verdant grass and golden corn. The sky was a clear blue, with nary a cloud in sight, and the sun blazed brightly above. Fenix was perfectly comfortable, as a gentle breeze blowing across the plains cooled him just enough. Below, he could see people, a precious few going about their daily tasks seemingly just as relaxed as he was. A greying man was unhurriedly packing the back of a cart full of crates, packed to the brim with fresh produce. Occasionally he dragged a forearm across his brow to dry the sweat, but never once did he complain, or change his body language from his nonchalant mannerisms. At the fore of the cart, a young Elven woman stood by the horses, attentively brushing the coat of one while stroking it with the other. She was utterly absorbed by the task, but her face was serene. It was clear that she loved the animals dearly. The final person was another elf woman, much older than the man but betraying not a single sign of it, who sat on the porch of the house. She was knitting, though it was far too early in the project to have told what it was. Her chair was rocking back and forth softly as it caught the wind, and the woman hummed happily as she worked. Fenix felt supremely calm, as though nothing could ever possibly go wrong in this perfect little world. When he looked down at his hands, he saw they were smooth and soft, not covered in calluses and scars from years of handling blades and climbing buildings. Fenix sighed heavily, contented, and lay back on the roof and closed his eyes.

* * *

When Cailan did, at last, return home, it was as the sun began to crest over the horizon and illuminate the city through a hazy morning mist. His city, he supposed. Greyfall was a run down place, having suffered much loss in its relatively short time standing. It had been subject to as many wars, plagues, epidemics and sieges as any of the main cities on the continent, but in a quarter of the time. As a result, the quality of living had been progressively degrading over time, until the place eventually evolved into what it is today;  
“A beaten, worn, out of the way shithole,” Cailan said as he tossed his bow to the ground and collapsed into a seat. “So why does the Guild want it? It doesn’t make any sense.” From the other side of the room, Cailan heard a stirring.  
“It's only a matter of time, Cailan,” Lanya answered after a moment, sitting up in bed and wiping the sleep from her eyes. “You’ll work it out, and you’ll prevent it, if need be. You always have done, and you always will.”  
“And yet,” Cailan sighed. “It's never enough, is it? I have yet to really made a difference here.” He paused after this, sitting quietly for a moment before adding. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I feel as though what I do pales in comparison to that of my father’s; I know you’ve heard it a hundred times over, but it hasn’t really changed. Nothing has.” Lanya stood and walked wearily over to where Cailan sat, kneeling in front of him and placing her hands on his knees. She caught his gaze with her own, drawing his eyes up.  
“What you do and what he did are very different. Yes, you both strove to improve the world around you, and you have both done so. But you each improve lives in very different ways, so you mustn’t compare yourself to him. Do you understand? What you do is special of its own merit.” Lanya’s voice was gentle and soft, and Cailan’s tensions visibly eased. Hesitantly, he smiled gently to his wife.  
“Perhaps.” He conceded, and Lanya returned his smile, and after a few more deep breaths, he added. “I suppose I just feel I need to do more, now he’s gone. Fill the void…” Cailan’s gaze dropped to his lap, and Lanya rubbed his leg sympathetically.  
“No one can expect any more from you, not even yourself.” She took his chin in one hand and brought his face up, aligning it with her own. “Okay?”  
“Okay.”

* * *

When Fenix opened his eyes, he was in a grand sitting room. It must have been two or three times larger than the farmhouse from before, and was comparatively lavish. The floor was hard marble, the kind that makes footsteps ring out and sound booming. One wall was a long line of windows stretching from the floor to the high roof, though deep burgundy curtains were drawn over almost the length of it, so only through small cracks could light creep through. All the chairs were aligned to face a great fireplace, with a large yet understated fire burning in the hearth. Above it, a coat of arms, displayed pride of place, bearing the symbols of a deer, griffon and tree hung. Along the top line, the name ‘Lalorn’ was inscribed in Elvish. Fenix was seated in one of the chairs, soft as velvet and richly red. Across from him sat an old man, with the hardened features of a warrior. Despite this, Fenix always found he had gentle eyes; soft and friendly. The man was drinking, sipping quietly from a chalice, while he read from a book. Fenix recognised it as a book about war; about tactics and formations used in some of the greatest and bloodiest battles the world had seen. From the corner of his eye, Fenix caught movement over by the grand doorway, and saw a hooded and masked figure slip out, bow and arrow slung across his back. The man’s features were covered, but Fenix knew just who the man was and where he was going.  
Away. Never to come back.  
Fenix relaxed back into his chair and, with another peaceful sigh, closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was sitting in Beau’s shop, on a simple wooden chair, behind the counter. Fenix knew that this was his world, the real world. The others were nothing but faint memories; distant dreams.  
Fenix closed his eyes, and did not open them for a long time.


	2. Background Info

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some contextual information I drafted up alongside the piece

Character List:

Hjaalbern “Fenix” Phoenixfire  
Bastard son of Mahariel Kroft - maiden name of Phoenixfire  
Long time friend of Beau and Cailan  
Career criminal; a thief

Cailan Lalorn  
Son of rich businessman Theirin Lalorn and retired General Rowan Lalorn  
Childhood friend of Fenix  
Vigilante

Beau  
Owner of an enchantment shop in Tiradur  
Former adventuring companion of Fenix

Theirin Lalorn  
Father of Cailan, husband of Theirin Lalorn  
Father figure to Fenix  
Businessman in Tiradur  
Deceased

Rowan Lalorn  
Mother of Cailan, wife of Theirin Lalorn  
Retired General  
Deceased

Lanya Lalorn  
Wife of Cailan  
Runs a clinic in Greyfall

Mahariel Kroft  
Mother of Fenix and Marian Kroft, wife of Arthur Kroft  
Owns and operates Kroft Farm outside Oakshade

Arthur Kroft  
Step-father of Fenix, father of Marian Kroft, husband of Mahariel Kroft  
Runs a shop in Oakshade

Marian Kroft  
Sister of Fenix, daughter of Arthur and Mahariel Kroft  
Lives at Kroft farm

Thiras Reithel  
Father of Fenix  
Forced himself upon Mahariel Kroft and impregnated her before abandoning child  
Deceased - killed by Fenix

 

Locations List:

Rrokk  
Continent on which all is set

Northern Realms  
A band of land across the north of Rrokk just south of the tundra, north of the Free Lands

Tiradur  
Capital of the Northern Realms  
Home of Lalorn family until Cailan moves to Greyfall with Lanya  
Location of Beau’s shop  
Location of Theirin and Rowan’s graves  
Location in which all paragraphs containing Fenix and/or Beau are set

Eastern Provinces  
An arid desert land occupying the south west corner of Rrokk

Greyfall  
Minor city in the Eastern Provinces, located between Tir-Gannen and Jreddai  
Location of Cailan and Layna’s home  
Location of Layna’s clinic  
Location in which any scenes containing Cailan and/or Lanya are set

The Free Lands  
A collection of city states in an alliance, occupying Central, Southern and Western Rrokk

Oakshade  
Small town in the southern Free Lands  
Location of Arthur’s shop and Kroft Farm  
Map of Rrokk


End file.
